A parking lot on Redwood where there is now a large modern church, too drunk, breath hot and terrible
I don't remember, but I remember you called me a dreamboat at the show
The front steps of FWCI, because you said you wanted to
Kristin's couch, because I wanted to
And again I don't remember, but I remember cucumber and balsamic vinegar
Red paint peeling off of the walls of your room like latex and singing that Sublime song too much
Everything but kissing you while not watching Pan's Labyrinth, and that strawberry top, and never ever fighting
I remember you sharing the book you were writing on a google doc and an insistence on gum to kill the smell of cigarettes
Under the streetlight by the record shop, and seeing you all the time despite never seeing you ever before we met
And too fast after the haunted house, because I thought that I had to, because that's how these things work
Though let's be fair, look at all this, I'm still working on figuring out how things work
